


Back Into Your Arms

by CocotteJenn



Series: Kallian Tabris (aka the Elves in Luuuv worldstate) [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alright there is sex in chapter two, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Cheese, Did I mention fluff?, Established Relationship, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Fluff, King Alistair, Longing, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Pre-Trespasser, Romantic Fluff, So much cheese it may as well bleed fondue, Some mildly suggestive stuff, Tickling, Warden (Dragon Age) is a Mistress, but it's relatively tame, some nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15536808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocotteJenn/pseuds/CocotteJenn
Summary: After more than a year of absence, the Hero of Ferelden is finally back home, and Alistair can't wait to see her again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially going to be a one-shot, but it was starting to get long. So I decided to cut it in three different parts.  
> The other chapters will be updated sporadically.

It had been more than a year since he had last seen her. A whole year! Almost two, even. The Hero of Ferelden had walked out of Denerim with a simple task in mind: finding a way to stop the Calling, cure them of that cursed taint in their blood that was going to kill them both. She had ventured into uncharted territories, way beyond the borders of the known world, and Alistair hadn’t seen her since. Of course, she had sent letters whenever she could, informing him of her advancements, but he wished he could have gone with her. He missed the sound of her raspy voice. He missed the way her laughter was sprinkled with involuntary snorts when he said something hilarious — or idiotic some might say. He missed her deep amber skin peppered with freckles, the way it would shiver under his touch. But no, he was the blasted King of Ferelden, so naturally, he couldn’t just leave the country to follow his elven lover across the world.

_ Stupid throne! Stupid obligations! _

He had complained about her leaving at first, but there had been no real point in arguing about it. By the time she had announced her plans to him, it was clear that she had already made her decision to go. Since she was one of the most stubborn women he had ever met, he had never stood a chance. And even though she hadn’t said it out loud, he knew she was doing it more for him than for herself. They didn’t like to talk about it, or even think about it, but they both knew that as King, he couldn’t just die fifteen years from now, especially not without an heir. After all the obstacles they had faced to put him on the throne, all that fuss about maintaining the Theirin bloodline, Ferelden needed an heir — his heir. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. If she died because of him… No, he shouldn’t think like that.

_ She killed a freaking Archdemon! She’s damn near invincible for Andraste’s sake! _

As he repeated those words to himself over and over again, a soft cough brought Alistair out of his reverie. He turned his head toward the noise, half thankful and half irritated for the sudden distraction. His uncle Eamon stood at the door of his study, watching him with affection. As Alistair was preparing himself mentally for more kingly duties, his uncle said the three words he had been waiting to hear for what felt like a lifetime: “She is back.” Alistair stood up with surprising speed, knocking his chair to the floor and almost tripping over his own feet. She was back. She was finally back. After months of needless worries, she had come back to him. Of course, she had. Alistair felt stupid for even considering the alternative. Filled with a renewed happiness, he hugged his uncle in a tight embrace as he rushed past him. 

At first, Eamon had disapproved of his relationship with the Warden, arguing that  _ she _ was the reason Alistair didn't have an heir yet. It was true, if only partially. He had shared his bed with no other woman since his coronation, not even his wife who was more than happy to let them be considering she barely tolerated him on her good days. And thank the Maker for that! He didn't want that woman to come near him with a ten-foot pole anyway.

It was the corruption in his blood, however, that really prevented Alistair from conceiving a child. He had told his uncle as much and had made it clear that if he had to choose between Eamon and the love of his life, he would be the expandable one. The old man had been forced to back down. Despite his initial reluctance, the Arl had eventually come to see that the Warden-Commander was a good influence on the King and that she was herself an adequate ruler, as she had proven times and times again both in Amaranthine and amongst the elves in the Alienage. 

Unable to wait any longer before seeing the love of his life again, Alistair barrelled through the Royal Palace’s long corridors, knocking over a couple of servants in his haste. He stopped first by his chambers. His fingers fumbled to untie his clothes as he changed into a simpler attire before racing through the streets of Denerim to the Bann of the Alienage’s estate.

Cyrion, who was reading a book in the parlor, barely raised an eyebrow when the King of Ferelden barged in through a backdoor. Alistair saluted the old man with a polite nod and stood there awkwardly for a few minutes, not knowing if he should go find his lover or wait for her to come and greet him. 

In an attempt to keep himself busy, the King petted the mabari resting at the elf’s feet. Having gone blind during the past few years, the old warrior’s fighting days were long over, but he still found the strength to rise and lick Alistair’s neck affectionately.

“Sorry I didn't bring you any treat, old friend.”

Dog — that was his name; Tabris had never been particularly creative — whined with disappointment.

“He is on a strict diet these days anyway,” Cyrion reminded the animal with a stern look.

Sensing Alistair’s discomfort, the patriarch smiled at him and answered his unspoken question with a soft chuckle, “She is in her room. I’m sure she can’t wait to see you.”

Alistair mumbled a quick “Thank you” before bolting to the Bann’s bedroom.

For a while, the King just stood there in the doorway, looking at the Warden, enthralled by her beauty. She was at her desk, writing a letter, grunting every now and then as she struck words out, struggling to find the correct ones. Exasperated, she crumpled the piece of vellum and threw it in the general direction of the fireplace on the other side of the room. The ball bounced on the mantle and fell in front of the hearth, joining five of its siblings on the stone floor. Giving up on her task, she rose from her seat and turned around to face him. When she saw him, a smile lit up her face and Alistair felt the veil of sorrow that had been wrapped around his heart for so long finally lifting. After months of longing, Kallian Tabris, the Hero of Ferelden, the love of his life, was standing right in front of him. She chuckled with kindness and it was the most beautiful sound Alistair had heard in a long time.

“You know, despite your best efforts, I bet you’re not fooling anyone with these,” she said, gesturing at his common clothes. “I’m sure everyone in Denerim recognized you. You’re just too handsome.”

When she finally kissed him, Alistair felt like she had never left his side. For a few precious seconds, he forgot that he was the King of Ferelden. They were both young again — two kids thrown in the middle of a civil war with consequences they barely understood. She had that effect on him. Her mere presence made him feel like the world wasn’t going to implode at any given moment. He was safe so long as she kept her arms around him.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him softly, her loving smile never leaving her face.

“You’ve been gone a long time. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She wrapped her hands around his neck to pull him closer and kissed him with hunger. He returned the kiss with the same fierce passion, grabbing her hips to push her against the desk, pressing his entire body against hers as if he were trying to merge with her. He could feel the heat growing inside of his body.  _ Too fast, this is going too fast. _ He wanted to take her, all of her, to ravish her right here, on her desk, but he also wanted to savor this moment. She was here now, but how long would she be staying? How long until she left for another mission? And how long until he would see her again? Maker's breath, even when she was staying in Denerim for longer than two months, he barely had time to see her - at least not in private. So he wanted to make this moment last. He wanted to commit every inch of her body to memory. He trailed kisses down her neck and rested his head on her shoulder, breathing in her scent.

“Although… you do smell kind of bad,” he said when they finally let go of each other, and immediately cursed his loose tongue for completely ruining the moment.

Kallian merely raised an eyebrow and laughed with the full strength of her lungs. That bright laugh of hers filled the room and Alistair was delighted to hear those cute snorts he was so accustomed to again. “Oh? Thank you so much. Hearing my lover speak those sweet words has always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Is that so? I’ll have to remember that,” Alistair teased her. “Besides, it’s not like they’ve never crossed your own lips before.” He punctuated his sentence with an affectionate poke on her nose.

“Well, if you didn’t eat so much cheese, maybe I wouldn’t say it so often,” she told him, still laughing.

“You know I can’t do anything about that,” he pouted with fake outrage. “It’s my main source of nutrients. I would die of hunger without it.”

They laughed together a little while longer, until Kallian pulled away from him, gazing toward the back of the room. “I actually just arrived. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Oh!” was all he could say, a little shame and disappointment creeping into his voice. For a moment, Alistair felt like an idiot. She would have sent him a note, or even visited him herself, once she was ready to meet him. “I’m sorry. I…”

Turning to face him again, the elf quieted his foul mouth with another soft kiss. “I was going to dip into a long hot bath,” she then purred into his ear. “But I wouldn’t mind the company, Your Majesty.” The way she called him  _ Your Majesty _ , with a hint of insolence in her voice, always had a way of bringing color to his cheeks. He felt like a flustered teenager courting his first sweetheart at a flower festival, blushing, fumbling for words, tripping over his own feet… Not very manly, but she must have loved that about him for she kept teasing him like that every time she had the chance.

He smiled sheepishly as she led him to the bathing chamber. The tub had already been filled with water and she had taken the time to light a few scented candles around the room. Alistair still remembered the day she had seen it for the first time. It had taken a lot of convincing from him and from her family for her to eventually accept the estate he was offering as part of her new status of Bann. She didn’t want to live in opulence while most of the elves in the alienage were still starving to death, even though most of them were very supportive. At first, Alistair had insisted. She needed a place where she could receive officials. She needed a welcoming home where they wouldn't be afraid to be stabbed in the back by an angry mob. Needless to say, Tabris had not been happy when he’d said that. Her eyes had narrowed into an intense glare, the kind that would have made the Archdemon fly right back into the Deep Roads during the Blight. Alistair was sure that had they not been madly in love with each other, she would have kicked him in the groin for such an offense, king or not.

The estate wasn’t even that big or opulent compared to others he’d seen during his visits to various nobles. It was more like a large house, with just enough room to live comfortably, but it was still ten times the shack she had shared with the rest of her family before the Blight. So Alistair had understood the reasons behind her choice and was ready to accept it. But then Tabris had seen the tub. It was a fancy piece of furniture built by the dwarves. It was a gift from the King of Orzammar himself, carved with runes that kept the water hot and clean, and big enough for her to stretch her legs without feeling uncomfortable. In fact, it was big enough for the both of them to fit inside without trouble. They had splashed around like children in a pound for at least an hour the first time they had used it, and they had even started a bubble fight, using some fancy Orlesian soap Leliana had sent her. They had then finished their bath with a night of passionate lovemaking, covering every inch of her personal quarters with the heat of their bodies.

In between soft kisses, the loving couple stripped off their clothes and dipped into the rose-scented water.


	2. Chapter 2

Kallian’s body ached from all the travels and fighting she had been doing these past few months. Alistair, on his end, was tired of having to deal with nobles and dignitaries all day long. A rest was more than welcome for the both of them. After scrubbing all the dirt and blood caked on her skin, they laid in the water for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet, and drinking some expensive looking wine Zevran had sent her a few years ago. Kallian rested her head against his chest, her eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips. She was content, and that was enough to make him happy. Alistair rubbed her arms with gentle caresses, his lips often brushing the top of her head to give her tender kisses. He loved her. Maker, he loved her so much.

Looking back, he couldn’t believe he had been foolish enough to even consider ending their relationship. He would never forget the way her face had fallen when he had told her after the Landsmeet had voted him King, that he needed to break up with her. She had looked beyond vulnerable at that moment, lost, confused and completely heartbroken. It had only been for a few seconds before a strong sense of determination took its place, but Alistair never wanted to see that look of despair on her face ever again.

Kallian had told him once how, in the alienage, you had to fight for everything you wanted. And, by the Maker, she had fought without yielding to be with him. She had fought against prejudices. She had fought against her own instincts yelling at her that he was human and should not be trusted. She had fought the Blight and Death itself to have a future with him! And Alistair, in his infinite stupidity, had considered putting an end to that future. She didn’t have to try very hard to convince him otherwise, but he still felt shame for what he did.

Yet here they were, over ten years later, happier than they ought to be. It was selfish. He knew that. She knew that. But they weren't hurting anyone. Besides, the entirety of Thedas must have known about their affair by now, and neither of them seemed to care. The people of Ferelden loved Tabris. Elf or not, she was their hero. You couldn't take that away from them. Only a handful of minor noble houses objected to Kallian being handed political power and a title to go with it. Those people had used their liaison in the past to try and undermine the bastard King, but none of them dared make any major move against the fearless _Hero of Ferelden_. Not anymore, at least. 

They had soon discovered that most people did not care who warmed their monarch’s bed as long as he did his job well. As Teagan liked to repeat to Eamon whenever he voiced his disapproval, a happy Alistair made a good king for Ferelden. And a good king made for a peaceful people and a prosperous country. Not to mention, Kallian’s presence at court was a blessing. Her counsel had been the most valuable to him. In hindsight, it might have been the best decision he had ever made. He wasn’t certain he could have done all this without her.

“So…” he started. “Did you make any progress?”

He sensed her body tense against his. “Maybe. I don't know. It's too soon to tell, I may need to do more research.”

More research. That was her way of saying she might be leaving again soon. Although the ‘maybe’ part was new and told him she was onto something. But there seemed to be something else on her mind, something she was reluctant to talk about, and it worried him. If Tabris was hiding something, it meant she was scared. She was the kind of woman who could jump headfirst into danger, who was brutally honest and the consequences be damned. If she was holding something back, it was serious.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, drawing her into a warm embrace. “You’re not usually this quiet when we’re together.”

“I'm fine, just a little tired.” She gave him a reassuring smile, turning her head slightly to the side so he could see her face.

“Alright. If you say so.” Whatever it was, if she didn't want to tell him, he wasn't going to push her.

“What about you?” she asked, relaxing a little. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“You don't really want me to bore you with politics, do you?”

She turned around to face him fully. “I do. I'm also one of your advisers, remember — at least when I’m around.”

Alistair sighed. “Alright, but I warn you, it isn't as entertaining as fighting dragons or hunting down darkspawn.”

“Darkspawn actually get pretty dull after thirteen years.”

He chuckled. “Of course you would think that.”

So Alistair told her everything he could think of, from mild annoyances like evil mages in the kitchens to end-of-the-world-disasters like a shortage of cheese. Kallian listened with attention, sometimes offering her own input on the situation. Maybe if he ate less of it, there wouldn't be any shortage of cheese.

Alistair pouted, “But if I was eating less cheese I wouldn't have a cute little belly, and you like my cute little belly.” He concluded his argument by tickling her. She giggled and started twitching uncontrollably, splashing water and soap all over the floor.

“Are you trying to kill me?” she said after he released her, still trying to catch her breath.

“Darkspawn don't scare you, but a few tickles might cause your doom? Maybe we should tell them about it. It would make the fights a little less one-sided, don't you think?”

“Don't you dare tell anyone!” she scolded him. “You know how ticklish I am! I’d never hear the end of it. Especially if Zev got wind of it.”

He chuckled. “I remember you once kicked me in the face while I was giving you a foot massage. Broke my nose too. So I'm pretty sure anyone who tries to use that against you is in for a serious beating.”

“Damn right they are! After all, I have a reputation as a scary monster-killer to uphold. I can't have people believe I'm going soft.”

“Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, Miss I-slew-an-archdemon-and-lived-to-tell-the-tale.” He captured her lips in a kiss, slow and soft, like a silent apology.

“Good,” she whispered when he released her. 

He kissed her again. And again. And again… Each kisses deeper than the last until they almost ran out of breath. He reached for her hips and pulled her onto his lap.

“Well, well, well…” she purred when they parted for air. “Someone’s starting to be a little happy.”

“I was hoping you could make me more than ‘a little happy.’” He gave her backside a gentle squeeze to illustrate his meaning. “Pretty please?” He looked at her with pleading eyes, as if he didn't already know how she would answer.

She chuckled and gave him a lustful kiss of her own, their tongues mingling with hunger. Her hands grabbed onto his hair to pull him closer and deepen the kiss as much as physically possible. It was the kind of strong passionate kiss that sent fire through your entire body. When they pulled apart, Alistair was left with a hole inside of him, a void he so desperately needed to fill. He did not have to wait long to feel her warm lips on him again, however. She slowly trailed kisses down his jaw, all the way to that sweet spot on his neck that made him tingle all over. A whimper of anticipation escaped his throat as he melted into her touch. That was her cue. She dipped a hand slowly into the water and made him a very happy man indeed. Alistair returned the favour in kind. He could feel her warm shaky breaths caressing his skin, her heart beating faster against his body with each of his strokes until she was so overwhelmed with pleasure that she collapsed on top of him.

“Sweet Maker,” she whispered, still shaking, when he finally let go of her. She let her forehead rest against his for a moment, eyes closed in bliss, before turning around to lean back against his chest.

Alistair wrapped his arms around her, letting her find a comfortable position. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and breathed her in. Her scent was intoxicating. She smelled of musk, roses and wine. “I missed you so much,” he murmured, planting a kiss at the nape.

“I missed you too, my sweet king.”

He let the warm water relax his muscles, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to savour this moment. That euphoria was like heaven to him, like a star shining inside his heart. He wanted it to last forever. He wanted to stay in her arms until old age caught up to them. But he had to remind himself sometimes that neither of them might live long enough to be considered ‘old’. If the Maker was kind, though, the Wardens would find a cure for the Blight, and the two of them would be able to turn grey together.

A comfortable silence settled between the two lovers, only interrupted by a _drip drip drip_ of water when Alistair reached for his glass of wine. With its fruity scent and sweet taste, the drink could work magic if paired with one of those strong Orlesian cheeses. Alistair’s mouth started to water at the thought. Maker! When had he become such an expert in wine and cheese combination?

“Anyway, going back to the subject of cheese, I may need to go to Orlais soon. Or maybe I'll just send Teagan again as my ambassador, he seems to handle them well,” he announced after a while with all the seriousness of a king. “It's about that Inquisition. You've heard about them, haven't you? It was fine when they were saving the world, but their number is starting to worry me — and everyone else in Ferelden to be honest. But I'm feeling conflicted, they did help us a lot, with the mages, the rifts, Orlais and everything… And Leliana — sorry, Her Holy Perfectionness Divine Victoria —” He rolled his eyes for good measure. “— is a friend. What do you think I should do?”

His question, however, met no answer. Kallian was lying motionless in his arms, her breathing steady and her eyes closed in peaceful serenity. Alistair sighed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He gave her limp body a gentle shake. “Tabs? Love? Did you just fall asleep on me again? I warned you politics would bore you.”

She groaned as she stirred. “Hum? What? Oh shit! I'm so sorry! It's been a long trip. I guess I was more tired than I thought.” She covered her face with her hands, feeling ashamed of herself.  “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, it's okay,” he murmured, lightly taking her calloused hands in his so he could reach her cheek with a tender kiss. “You don't have to be this indestructible war goddess when we're alone together.”

“I know, it's just–”

“I didn't fall in love with a tough ‘nothing-ever-gets-to-me’ battle-hardened woman but with the smart, caring, and sweet woman hiding behind that façade. And if that woman is tired, Maker help me, I will not be responsible for keeping her awake when all she needs is a good few hours of sleep.”

“What are you doing?” she asked as he got up and climbed out of the tub.

She observed him, intrigued, as he fumbled to dry himself. Her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders, on the droplets of water sliding down his strong arms, and… _damn, what a cute little belly!_

He approached her with a clean towel. “Alright, get up.” She obliged and he wrapped her inside the white piece of cloth.

She laughed when he scooped her up. “You know, I might be tired, but I can still walk.”

Alistair answered her complaint with a quick peck on her lips and carried her to the bed where he gently set her down and pulled the silk sheets over her naked body. He laid down beside her and watched her slowly fall asleep again, his hand often wandering to her face and to the small curves of her body, as if he needed to touch her to be sure that she was real, that she was here with him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He smiled, moving closer to her so he could wrap his arms around her small body. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter!
> 
> The next one isn't likely to be published before a while, though. I haven't started working on it yet and I have a few other WIPs I wish to finish first. I hope you understand :)


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